An Unfortunate Turn Of Events
by Bora Olldashi
Summary: My entry for The Snarky Sidekick Contest. Eric makes a suggestion to Pam before leaving to find the missing Bill Compton. Through a series of events she could never predict, she actually takes him up on it.  M for F-bombs


**Hey guys! This is my entry for The Snarky Sidekick Contest. I have to thank BathshebaRocks for her Beta skills on this one and would like to say thank you to the judges for their opinions/advice. Hope you guys like it and of course Charlaine Harris and Alan Ball own everything.**

Pam gave a Herculean eye roll, with a gusto she typically reserved for the frenchified utterances of the eternally effeminate Bill Compton. She'd been standing in front of Fangtasia for upwards of five minutes now and was beginning to lose patience.

"I would love to explain it to you but it seems I left my crayons in my other jacket so I'm afraid I'll just have to repeat myself. Your sister is not here, Mr. Stackhouse." She had to admit that her tone was a tad condescending. The tragically indomitable Jason Stackhouse appeared nonplussed.

"Well that dog just don't hunt," was his reply.

Pam quirked an eyebrow. She'd have to remember that one, see if she could work it into conversation with Sookie's shifter boss.

"See, Sook left a note said she was comin' here to see Eric."

"So you said."

"But you said she ain't here?"

"So I did."

He stood staring at her, apparently desiring further explanation. Pam had all night. She stared back at him, not batting an eyelash for nearly two full minutes before he got uncomfortable and cleared his throat.

"Well if she shows up, could you have her give me a call maybe?" he asked, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops on his jeans.

"I could."

He looked confused again but finally nodded and turned, walking toward his truck. Pam watched him go, shaking her head slowly. What a total moron. She watched him get into his monstrosity of a vehicle and leave the parking lot before she turned and walked back into Fangtasia.

She found Eric and Sookie in the office, still discussing Bill's possible whereabouts. Since his recent disappearance, Pam had taken to referring to Bill as Carmen San Diego, humming the tune of the once popular television show any time she thought Sookie could hear (and thus become annoyed by) it. They glanced up as she entered.

"I have to tell you, Sookie, I'm surprised your brother's brain has the capacity to keep him breathing throughout the day," she drawled, lowering herself onto a stool.

"You're telling me! If dumb was dirt, that boy would cover a mile," Sookie agreed emphatically. "Thanks for getting rid of him, Pam. I'll make sure I call him when I leave, I just wanted some time to think about my next move before I had to deal with him."

Pam dismissed the thanks with a slight nod.

"Miss Stackhouse was just telling me her theories on Mr. Compton's whereabouts," Eric informed Pam, nodding at Sookie to continue.

"Right, so like I was sayin'. If y'all don't have him, which I have not totally ruled out yet just so you know," she leveled a look first at Eric, then Pam, "then I can only assume Lorena has him."

Pam was mildly amused at the venom with which Sookie spat Lorena's name.

"A solid theory," Eric concurred.

"And I was thinking, she couldn't have managed him by herself so she has to be in cahoots with somebody. The only thing I can think is that she's in with those Weres from Jackson, the ones that are hooked on V? See, I figure she's supplyin 'em somehow to get 'em to do her biddin'. I would like to confirm this with Alcide but since he took back up with that Debbie Pelt, I'd have better luck tryin' to sandpaper a bobcat's ass in a telephone booth. So I came up with a plan. I'll go to Jackson and infiltrate that Were bar they all go to, see what I can 'hear', if you know what I mean, then we can take it from there. He's gotta be in Jackson, I just know it," she concluded excitedly, glancing between Eric and Pam for approval.

After a few moments of silence, she raised her eyebrows. "Well? What do y'all think?" she asked.

Pam cut her eyes to Eric, who was looking at her expectantly. She slowly shifted her gaze back to Sookie.

"What purpose could sandpapering a bobcat's ass possibly serve and why, for the love of Prada, would you attempt such a thing in a telephone booth?" she asked, incredulous.

Sookie threw a hand up in exasperation. "Seriously? I pitch a plan to you and that's all you hear?" she asked in disbelief.

"No, I heard it all but you asked what I thought. That's what I was thinking," Pam said, her lips curled in a faint smile. She did love to be obtuse with sweet Sookie.

"What do you think _of the plan_?" she emphasized the last part of the sentence pointedly.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Oh, that. I'm personally not vested in the search for Carmen so I'm afraid my opinion is rather neutral. Eric?" Pam answered dryly, noting with amusement the way Sookie's nostrils flared at the word 'Carmen'.

"I think it's a good start," he said judiciously. "However I find the idea of you 'infiltrating' the Were bar alone not to my liking. I suggest we distract the Were bitch so that Alcide can accompany you to this establishment." He placed his elbows on the desk and pressed the pads of his fingertips together, awaiting Sookie's response. She thought for a moment before replying.

"Well, I would rather not go by myself, but how do you plan to distract Debbie?"

"Please, that girl is the original good time that was had by all," Pam all but snorted. "Eric can simply invite her to Fangtasia for the evening. She would come panting, I'm sure."

Sookie's nostrils flared again. Pam smirked.

"Or perhaps Eric can simply accompany you and leave Fido alone altogether? He has a stunning disguise in which he wears a pair of drug store reading glasses and a ponytail." Pam had disdained Eric's 'Leif' get-up since the first time he had used it. It was asinine to believe that anyone would fall for it. Honestly, how many 6'5" blonde haired, blue eyed Viking vampires did he think were roaming around the continental U.S.? Yet he loved the fool idea and at her mention of it, his eyes lit up.

"Good call, Pam. I can't believe I didn't think of that myself," he said, his tone quite genuine.

How one man could be so perfectly genius 98% of the time and such a complete baboon's ass the other two, Pam had no idea. It was a physical discomfort to refrain from rolling her eyes but good. Moving on.

"In my personal opinion, Sookie, you should let Carmen alone for a while. _Dear Abby_ says long distance relationships are a chance for partners to gauge commitment to one another. Perhaps this is a golden opportunity." She liked to reference _Dear Abby_ at any and all applicable opportunities. It was surprising how often the columnist gave advice that was relevant to real life, in Pam's opinion.

"Pam, this is not a long distance relationship. Bill was kidnapped," Sookie said slowly, as though speaking to a stupid child. Pam's face remained totally immobile as she stared back at the human. "Even if it were a long distance relationship, I'd think it would be more detrimental than beneficial being that I don't even know where he is."

"Yes, well, the Vile Impostor is of the same opinion," Pam responded with clear distaste, taking a moment to study her manicure pointedly. She'd recently tried a new color, _Off With Her Red _by OPI, and still wasn't convinced that branching out of her signature pink (_And This Little Piggy_, also by OPI) was a good move.

"Do you mean that online columnist lady, _Dear Suz_?" Sookie asked in a delicate voice, knowing Pam's strong opinion against anyone trying to steal _Dear Abby_'s glory. Pam didn't deign to dignify the Impostor's true identity with a response. "Thought so," Sookie muttered. Pam pursed her lips and stood.

"If the conversation has devolved into topics beneath my scope of consideration, I will be on my way," she flitted to the door at vampire speed. "You'll see me before you leave?" she asked Eric. He nodded.

"Pam, do you think you could maybe keep an eye on Jason while I'm gone?" Sookie asked in a tentative voice. Pam raised an eyebrow.

"I hardly think that will be necessary. Judging by the old saying 'what you don't know can't hurt you', I'd say your brother is practically invulnerable," Pam reasoned.

Sookie thought it over for a second. "Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed, nodding her head.

"But Sookie, if at any time during your travels you find yourself," Pam paused, deciding on the appropriate word, "bi-curious, Eric has my number on speed dial." She smirked and was out the door. She heard Eric's laugh and Sookie's shocked spluttering as she floated up the stairs to open the bar.

…..

Just after midnight, Eric summoned Pam to his office. She sauntered in and sat on the couch against the wall. He looked at her a long moment before speaking.

"Pam, I want you to know that there is a possibility I won't be returning from Jackson," he said slowly, never taking his eyes off of her face. Her brows instantly drew together as she absorbed that.

"What do you mean? Surely you're not leaving me here to deal with this place alone," it wasn't a statement, but not quite a question either.

Of course she and Eric had parted ways in the past, it was a necessity. Vampires are singular creatures by nature and though nesting is a common practice, all nests split up eventually. Staying too long in the company of the same vampire would lead to eventual bloodshed. Even Maker and Child could not live forever in each others company without a break. She, however, had no desire to be the sole owner of this shit hole bar in this shit hole town without her shit head Maker suffering right beside her.

"What I mean is, there is a possibility that I will meet the true death in Jackson," he clarified, still starting at her face. If her heart had been beating, it would have stopped. She recovered quickly.

"Ha ha, hilarious. You know, Eric, you really should look back into stand up comedy. I think it will work much better without the parachute pants you wore in the eighties when you tried it." She could only assume he was joking.

"Pam, I'm serious. You know that I have been tracking my family's murderer since I was made. I believe that he may be in Jackson. I believe that he is responsible for Bill's abduction, though I don't know why yet. What I do know is that if I get a chance to end him, or someone close to him, I will do it. So it stands to reason that I may not make it back," he told her calmly.

"Take me with you," she answered immediately.

"I will not," he responded, just as quickly.

"Eric, do not be foolish. If there is a possibility you will need my assistance, take me with you," she tried to reason with him.

"It's a slim possibility," he said, smiling at her. "I am, first and foremost, a Viking. We were the original bad asses."

Pam fought a smirk.

"Don't try to distract me with humor. Besides, everyone knows the 'original bad asses' were Victorian debutantes," she shot back at him. He chuckled.

"I won't let you go with me, Pam, regardless of the tactics you use. In fact, as your Maker, I command you to stay in Louisiana while I go to Mississippi." Immediately Pam felt the tingle of the command and growled at him.

"You know I hate it when you do that," she snapped. He smiled, pleased with himself.

"Yes I do, as a matter of fact," his tone was cheery. She rolled her eyes. "I don't want you to be worried. Obviously, I am going to approach this cautiously, and I will not make a move if I think I can construct a viable plan for the future. The reason I am even saying this to you is that it's time you became a Maker."

Pam heaved a sigh, rolled her eyes, and threw herself back into the couch all at once in her best approximation of a human teenager.

"The reason I let you make me is so that I would no longer be subjected to my mother's harping about becoming a wife and mother. And here I am again," she hit the petulant tone perfectly.

"First, you did not _let me_ do anything. Second, you just compared me to your human mother, the woman I mistook for a gargoyle when I attended your 'funeral'. And third, you also wanted sex." He said this all matter-of-factly. Pam snorted.

"Yes, well, there was that," she conceded.

"I want you to think about this, Pam. You would be an excellent Maker. You have already been more help to Compton's progeny than he has himself. Also, I want to know that you have more than just me. I want to know that I wouldn't be leaving you alone if anything ever did happen to me," he said slowly.

She looked at him thoughtfully, really seeing him for the first time in a long while. He had been so much to her, had saved her from her human life, taught her how to be. She couldn't imagine the world without him, and knew that even if she made seventy vampires herself, not one of them could match him for her.

"If you so much as think about commanding me to do it, I swear I will rip your testicles right off of your body with my bare hands. And when they grow back, I will do it again," she masked her feelings with her snippiest tone.

He beamed at her.

"You've got a couple of extra appendages yourself, you know. Might want to consider their safety before you go doing anything like that," he reminded her. "But I would never command you to become a Maker. I just wish you would consider it."

She nodded, leaning her elbow onto her knee. She carefully placed her chin in her palm and looked up the ceiling, tapping her pointer finger lightly against her bottom lip. After a few seconds, she locked eyes with Eric.

"I've considered it. Still no," she smiled at him and stood up. He shook his head, smiling wryly at his progeny.

"Also know this, I've never once regretted making you," he added.

"Whoever in their right mind would?" she flitted to the door and looked over her shoulder. "Be ruthless in Jackson."

Eric knew this was as close as Pam was able to get to sentimental, which was another reason they were perfectly matched. He nodded resolutely.

"And be quick. If you leave me here with these emasculated fang bangers too long, I will not be held responsible for the carnage," she told him, only half joking.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he called behind her as she left the office.

Pam wasn't worried about Eric. He had lived for over one thousand years. She had seem him accomplish things that she'd have sworn to be impossible in their time together. He was bold, yes. Stupid, he was not. He wouldn't get himself killed. And if he did, he'd better hope to high hell there wasn't an afterlife because she would hunt him down and deliver an ass kicking of epic proportions once she died…again.

…..

Two nights later, Pam stood outside Fangtasia and waved a sardonic goodbye to The Crack Squad.

It could almost have been a sleazy pornographic film; Sookie being the overly-enthusiastic-tanned-buxom-cheerleader and 'Leif' (Eric refused to respond to the name Eric when the glasses were on, which was immensely inflammatory to Pam) being the slightly-introverted-dorky-seeming-(in-his-stupid-horn-rimmed-glasses-and-tweed-jacket-that-he-insisted-on-wearing-despite-repeated-advice-to-the-contrary)foreign-exchange-student-who-really-is-a-vampire-Viking-sex-god-incarnate embarking on a dangerous journey into a den of wolves (hah) to rescue a pitiful-excuse-for-a-man-turned-embarrassment-to-the-vampire-community, only to find their lust for each other overpowers all else.

She snickered to herself at the thought and turned inside to get the bar ready for the evening's business.

…..

Three relatively uneventful nights later, Pam stood at the bar, reflecting on her accomplishments thus far in Eric's absence. Firstly, she had managed to increase profits by holding a wet t-shirt contest in which vamps and humans could both participate. This was something Eric was vehemently against but did not specifically prohibit before he left; some blathering about being low class or some-such nonsense. In Pam's estimation, the place was called Fangtasia and required her to wear a pleather jumpsuit; it couldn't get much lower class than that.

Second, she had switched back to _And This Little Piggy_ and was pleased with the decision. She had tried branching out of her comfort zone, as suggested by _Dear Abby_. However, being that she was not uncomfortable with her comfort zone, she saw no reason she shouldn't revert back.

Third, she had thought up a few solid names for the porn idea she planned to pitch to Eric when he returned. Her favorites included _Brothello of Blood_ and _A Vampire in Sook-lyn_. She also liked _Let The Right One In_, since the film itself was originally made in Sweden and the title was suggestive without any tweaking.

These were the musings that were interrupted when the phone behind the bar rang.

"Fangtasia, where all your bloody dreams come true," she noted wryly that the boredom came through of its own accord.

"Pam! Is that you?" a female voice, bordering on hysteria, fairly shouted into the phone. She curled her lip in distaste.

"Yes."

"Oh thank Jesus! It's me, Jessica! Listen, I really need your help," it took her a moment to realize that Jessica was Bill's redheaded stepchild. Then she heaved a sigh theatrically into the phone.

"For the last time, Boyz II Men is not a daycare center. Your human is correct, stop arguing with him."

"No! Not that! Besides, I was confused that time and that's not what I meant anyway, I jus- Ok, never mind that. Listen, Hoyt and I are at Sookie's place and I think someone is outside. Could you maybe come over here?"

"You want me to leave my business to come to Sookie's home because you think someone is outside? You are vampire, for fuck's sake, Jessica. Act like it." She really needed to look into purchasing a video phone so her eye rolls could be fully appreciated via all methods of communication.

"No, not like a person! I don't know, it smells like a…well, kinda like a dog?" Jessica sounded unsure of herself and Pam realized she must be smelling Weres. She perked up instantly.

"Can you hear anything?"

"See that's the thing, it sounds like humans out in the woods but I keep smelling a dog kinda scent," Jessica elaborated.

"That would be a werewolf," Pam told her.

"What the fuck! A werewolf! That's such a thing?" Jessica was shocked.

"Bill Compton is completely without worth," Pam muttered into the phone. "Try to stay in the house and be quiet. I'll be there shortly." She hung the phone up and went to get Chow to take over.

Pam made it to Bon Temps in record speed, excited by the prospect of a fight. Of course, it would be nice if she had some assistance but since Bill continued to prove less than mediocre in being a Maker, as in all other aspects of his miserable existence, the redhead would be more hindrance than help. No matter, she could take on more than a couple of Weres by herself.

She parked near the cemetery between Bill and Sookie's residences and crept into the woods. After taking a few moments to get her bearings, and realizing with a surge of annoyance that she should have changed out of her Dior pumps before coming to Bumpkin Bon Temps, she got a good nose-full of Were. It was definitely wafting away from Sookie's back yard. She crept stealthily toward the patchwork house, senses on high for signs of the glorified shifter scum. She was able to tell that while they had definitely been there, they were already gone. She flitted up to the steps and, knowing that Sookie had never rescinded her invitation, entered through the back door.

Signs of struggle were evident everywhere. The refrigerator was on its side with revolting human food spilling out of it. There were some holes in the walls, the table was smashed and there was blood everywhere. Pam took a delicate sniff. Human for sure; and vampire.

She had the strangest feeling of vertigo as she caught herself hoping the redhead wasn't too badly harmed. _'__I need to get the hell out of this podunk state before I turn into a Brady,'_ she thought to herself with disgust. She also noted the distinct stench of Were blood and smirked at the knowledge that at least the baby vamp had put up a fight. She really should castrate Bill and sew his testicles to Jessica, who obviously had more right to wear them. She noted with amusement that Mr. Compton was coming up in the world. He was apparently no longer beneath her contempt.

She made her way into the next room and found the redhead and her human, both grotesquely wounded but not dead. She could hear the human's heartbeat, fading as it was, and obviously the redhead would not be leaving a corpse if she were finally dead.

"Pam?" the girl said weakly, turning her head slowly to face the doorway.

"Yes," Pam confirmed, kneeling beside her.

"Thank you baby Jesus," she whispered under her breath. "Please, help Hoyt." Pam could only assume that 'Hoyt' was the human, who was very nearly beyond help, if his fading heartbeat was any indicator.

"There is nothing I can do for the human, short of turning him," she responded, not completely coldly. She knew what it was to lose a companion, and though the girl was young and would get over it, it would still be painful.

"Do it," Jessica responded immediately, her voice ragged. Pam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She would have thought after the fight this girl had put up to retain her human life that she would never want to turn anyone she loved. Idiot humans.

"I am not prepared to become a Maker," Pam retorted, hiking up the sleeve of her top. "I am not even prepared to give you blood, but you obviously need it," Pam dropped her fangs to draw her own blood. A quick perusal of the other vampire showed massive bites and she could clearly see the Weres had drained a good bit of her blood.

"Please Pam, I would do it myself if I could but I think those bastards damn near drained me dry," she struggled to make her voice audible, obviously forgetting that Pam would be able to hear the faintest whisper in the middle of a hurricane. "You can't let him die, please. You will be a great Maker, hell you're already better'n mine. I wish you _were_ mine," she said with the utmost sincerity.

Pam clicked her tongue, looking at the human. There was a better chance of WalMart carrying Louis Vuitton bags than there was of her turning that thing. It was huge; oafish. And it was wearing flannel. She could imagine what Eric would say when he found out.

Or could she? She recalled the conversation they'd just had about her creating a progeny. Surely he'd meant someone with couth, style, a certain _je ne sais quoi_. Not an overgrown fifth grader with mommy issues.

On the other hand, at least this one would listen. It had the connection to the redhead, so it wouldn't be a total burden. She was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that she would be a better Maker than Bill. Then again, she was certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that it wasn't possible to be a _worse_ Maker than Bill. She knew it would please Eric that she had taken him seriously and created a progeny. It would probably allow her some time off from Fangtasia to educate him. If she was being honest, she had been toying with the idea since Eric had mentioned it.

She glanced back at the redhead, whose heartbreak was visible on her face. Pam clenched her jaws. Though it was fully against her character to make snap decisions, she decided on the spur of the moment (a moment she would undoubtedly scorn for centuries to come) to turn the human.

"Fuck a zombie," she groaned, bending towards his neck.

…..

Exactly as she had anticipated, she regretted the decision almost immediately. She was preparing to crawl into the dirt next to the human when it hit her. Pam was low on blood, after feeding first the human, and then the redhead so she could at least get herself home before the dawn. Otherwise, she might have been thinking more clearly and left the fool for dead.

Two text messages to Chow and a world of regret later and there she was, crawling into the dirt with a human that she would be irrevocably bound to for the rest of eternity. Her skin crawled at the thought but if there was one thing Pam did, it was stick to her decisions. Besides, she figured she could always kill him later if he got on her nerves too badly.

Her last coherent thoughts for the next three nights were "_At least it's not ugly," _followed by, "_Well, not extraordinarily ugly, anyway". _Then she curled around Hoyt and fell asleep as the dirt settled into every exposed crevice of her body.

…..

She had a split second of unknowing bliss when she finally woke up three nights later. Then she realized she was in the ground. With a human. Scratch that. With her progeny. Oh sweet Marie Antoinette, she had a progeny. She rolled her tightly closed eyes just to make herself feel better and then began to burrow up out of the ground.

"Did it work?" the redhead asked excitedly, crouched next to the spot that Pam emerged from. She would never admit it but she had to stifle a shout of surprise.

"I guess we'll see," Pam retorted, angry at everything. She stood up and began brushing her arms off roughly. The girl refrained from further conversation until a few moments later the dirt began to shift. Pam ground her teeth together as the redhead clapped her hands happily. Suddenly, Hoyt's head popped through the ground, spluttering dirt out of his mouth.

"What the hell?" he asked angrily.

"Hoyt, baby, you gotta understand, those Werewolves attacked us and you were damn near dead before they figured out Sookie wasn't there and cleared out. Then when Pam got there I begged her to turn you, I just couldn't stand the thought of being without you," Jessica blurted out in a rush. He looked astonished and then swiveled his head towards Pam.

"That true?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes."

"What the fuck? Why would you do such a thing? Aw hell! I can't be no vamper! I can't believe this! What am I gonna tell my Mama?" he was on the verge of a freak out. Pam crouched down, suddenly face to face with him.

"You listen to me, Jethro. I am not going to apologize for what I did and neither am I going to listen to you bitch about it for another minute. What's done is done. If you don't like it, I'll be happy to kill you again. And I do not give a flying fuck what you tell your mother. This is your second chance. I am your Maker. You will obey me in all things. You will not embarrass me and you will not blather about your human life. Nut up or shut up," she told him in her most lethal voice.

He gulped a few times; it would be a little while before he lost some of those human habits.

"My name is Hoyt, not Jethro," he finally said, sounding mildly assertive.

Pam smirked. He might work out after all. "Well get the fuck out of that hole, Hoyt. I've got shit to do."

…..

The next two nights were hell on earth for Pam. First, she was forced to witness a tearful reunion between Hoyt and Jessica. Then a very annoying episode during which she attempted to explain the basics of vampire existence to Hoyt while he intermittently got up to speed around the perimeter of the room to show her how fast he could go. He could also text ridiculously fast, a feat he insisted she watch repeatedly until she crushed his phone in exasperation.

He'd taken to calling her 'Mama Pam' and she was not amused.

Then of course the grim 'hunting' trip in which Hoyt drained his first human. To death. Perhaps had he not been attempting to beat his own record for racing around the room while Pam was explaining the art of feeding to him, he would have known better. To his credit, though, he wasn't terribly broken up about it.

In fact, she was beginning to think that he'd been made for this. He was surprisingly quick, even for a vampire. After his initial outburst, he hadn't once mentioned his mother or lamented the fact that he was no longer human.

He could drop fang at will. He found True Blood to be as disgusting as she (and honestly any vampire in their right mind) did. And he so far had shown no remorse at all about killing that human. In fact, he'd wanted to try it again the same night.

He wasn't necessarily unattractive. He was tall, likely of a height with Eric. Though Eric obviously carried himself far better, there may be hope for Hoyt in the future. He was strong with good muscles from his human life. He wasn't disfigured or mentally retarded, so that was a plus.

Those were the good things. The bad thing was that he was the biggest hill-jack cliché Pam had ever come across. Ever. He drove a rusty pick up truck; the only clothes he owned were either plaid or made by Wrangler; and he looked like a brunette Howdy Doody. Of course, given a couple of centuries, Pam might be able to fix him up a little. She'd already done well in establishing her alpha role and could foresee that he would be respectful of her.

That didn't mean she was happy with the situation.

After a second, more successful, 'hunting' trip, Pam had brought him back to Fangtasia with her to check in and ensure that everything was running smoothly. She hadn't heard from Eric and couldn't be sure when he was going to come back.

Chow raised a questioning eyebrow at her as she walked past the bar, Hoyt trailing close behind. She squinted her eyes, wishing she'd had more time to devote to her theory that looks could, in fact, kill. Once, in London, she had stared at a girl so hard that the hussy had dropped over dead right there. To this day, Eric insisted it was an aneurysm but Pam knew better. She'd tried repeatedly over the intervening decades to recreate the circumstances and figure out the key but had been unsuccessful; so far.

Anyway, she tried to kill Chow with her eyes but it didn't work that time either, so she glided right past and down into the office. Hoyt, of course, followed her in and sat down opposite the desk. She sighed pointedly and opened the laptop.

Pam quickly became engrossed in email and checking the books so she was only faintly aware of Hoyt humming as he picked at his fingernails. It wasn't until he started singing that she recognized the song and had to suppress a chuckle. The fool was singing Bohemian Rhapsody, starting with the line _"Mama, I just killed a man."_

He noticed her smirking and smiled in return. Cheeky bastard.

"What's on your mind? If you'll allow the overstatement," she drawled, not looking up from the screen. He snorted.

"I might not be as bad as you thought, huh?" he asked, genuinely looking for approval.

She thought quickly of how to respond. Attempting to tailor her mentoring style after Eric as closely as she could, she knew the best response would be a faint form of praise followed up with a slight insult. Can't let them know exactly how you feel.

"Perhaps not," she said. His smiled widened a bit. "Then again, I didn't think America was going to amount to much either."

"See, why you gotta go and do that? You say somethin' that is perfectly nice, then you gotta twist it all up," he grumbled.

"Enough of the complaining, I have work to do. Go back upstairs and wait until I get there. And don't kill anybody," she looked at him sternly. He rolled his eyes and lumbered toward the door.

A few minutes later, she heard _'Mama Tried' _playing upstairs in the club and rolled her eyes. It was followed by _'A Song For Mama'_ and then _'Mama's Song'_. The little shit was persistent, at least. She forced herself to focus back on her work.

About an hour later, she felt Eric's presence and suddenly got a tad panicky. She hadn't prepared a speech to give him regarding Hoyt and wasn't ready to defend herself against the thousand questions he was sure to have.

She fleetingly considered putting _Papa Don't Preach_ on the media player of her laptop but wasn't sure what kind of mood he'd be in. Moments later, she heard him outside the door. She folded her hands in her lap and braced herself. The door opened to reveal a decidedly amused Eric.

"Care to explain why there's a young Slingblade upstairs referring to you as Mama Pam?" he asked, grinning. He ducked just in time to miss the stapler flying at his head. "Didn't think so," he chuckled in response.


End file.
